


An Unforgettable Journey

by Eirlyssa



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - No One Ring, Alternate Universe - Pokemon Fusion, Bilbo just wants to go Home, Dwarves are Mean, F/M, Gen, I promise, M/M, Slow Burn, They'll get better, at least at first
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-05-24 03:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6140410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eirlyssa/pseuds/Eirlyssa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hobbits did not take on Pokémon Journeys. They stayed peacefully in the Shire, calm and comfortable, along with their Pokémon. Of course, Bilbo had always been curious to watch the battles that travelling trainers had with the Thain, and his mother had actually done some travelling, but that did not mean he wanted to go travel the world!</p>
<p>Not that Gandalf really took that into account when asking for his help, of course. Inconsiderate wizard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Unexpected Journey (aka Thanks, Gandalf)

**Author's Note:**

> In honor of the 20th Birthday of Pokémon, I decided to start publishing this. I used Pokémon up to the 3rd Generation, because I have to confess I started losing track after that.
> 
> For now, I just hope you will enjoy reading :)

It seemed almost too good to be true and, as Bilbo would think afterwards, that should have been his first hint. The weather was beautiful, and he was lying in his garden and enjoying one of the first days of spring. His Pokémon, as well as those of his late parents, were alternately lying around as well or playing with one another in the large garden of Bag End.

A cough interrupted them, and he could hear Bellossom falling silent. Worried, he opened his eyes, only to find a tall man clad in grey standing at the porch. Bilbo didn’t even have time to pretend not to know him, as Bellossom jumped for him with an excited exclamation.

The man laughed, catching her in his arms. “Yes, it has been far too long.”

Bilbo remembered the stories his mother had told him, of the journeys she had taken. Gandalf had been a common feature in them, having been the one to tempt her out of the Shire the first time. It was no surprise her one remaining Pokémon still remembered the wizard fondly.

“Mister Gandalf, I presume?” He had only met the wizard when he was very young, when he had come to get Belladonna for one last adventure before she settled down with her husband and son. Still, there was no mistaking the grey clothes, the staff he was carrying, or the Altaria flying by his side.

“Why, Bilbo Baggins,” Gandalf said, approaching with a smile on his face and an excited Bellossom still in his arms. “It has been far too long since I have seen you.”

Although he was inclined to agree – the man had not even shown up for his mother’s funeral – it would not do to be impolite. “Indeed it has,” he allowed instead. “Would you perhaps like something to drink? I would invite you inside, but I’m afraid the day is far too nice for me to miss any of it by shutting myself in.” Rather, he pointed the wizard to the bench his father had put in place for Belladonna to sit on when her health had declined.

“Yes, yes, of course.” The wizard was soon seated, and Bilbo headed inside to get him something to drink, as well as a snack. Being busy anyhow, he also prepared something for the Pokémon to eat and drink. Absorbed as he had been in enjoying the day, elevensies had completely passed him by, and it was just about the right time for lunch.

Through the window, he could see Bellossom chatting eagerly to Gandalf, and the wizard could do little more than nod occasionally or hum in agreement.

Carrying the tray outside, Bilbo looked around to see if everything was still in order. Most Pokémon around Bag End were not his, but he felt responsible for them nonetheless. But the multiple Oddish and Sunflora did not seem too disturbed by having the stranger around, and his Bayleef was lying close by to hear everything that was being said between Bellossom and Gandalf. The daughter of his father’s Meganium, she had heard plenty stories about Belladonna’s adventures, and she had always been a curious creature. Even Azumarill, relaxing in the pond, had his ears pointed towards the two.

“Here we go.” He put the tray down, moving the food for the Pokémon so it was in easier reach. “Feel free to take anything you like. You as well,” he addressed the Altaria hovering by Gandalf. “I grabbed some of the treats the Jumpluff around here like particularly much, so I hope it is to your tastes as well.”

Different types of Pokémon preferred different types of food, and he had come to find that any flying type Pokémon had very specific tastes. They weren’t exactly common to trainers around the Shire, who preferred Grass-, Bug- and Normal-types more, but he did try his best to make all the Pokémon around happy. His mother had always been amused by the amounts of not-captured Pokémon hovering around Bilbo, but then again, neither she nor his father had ever been able to get their food to taste the way it should.

Before he was aware of the creature moving, Altaria was hugging him with wings that were ever so soft, humming happily. Despite Gandalf’s unexpected company, Bilbo couldn’t help the smile on his face as he breathed deeply.

Digging into his own lunch, he chatted happily with Gandalf about the Pokémon around, pointing out the few that were his and introducing those who weren’t. “Mother always said it was the food that had them hanging around, though I think the garden helps just as much. Not to mention that most people don’t come by this way, whereas Hobbiton and Tookburough are a bit too busy for them.”

Gandalf chuckled, but he did not give a verbal reply. Wizards had always been more in touch with the Pokémon around them, and Bilbo wondered what he made of it all.

Despite his being a wizard, however, Bilbo found he was unable to relax around Gandalf, silently mourning the lost peace. Swallowing deeply, he turned to the wizard with a serious look on his face. “So, if I may ask, what truly brings you here?”

“Why, can’t a wizard come to catch up with an old friend?” The man affected a shocked look, but it did not fool Bilbo one bit.

“Of course they can,” he allowed, “but they rarely do. Wizards, you see, tend to have more important things to do than catching up with old friends, and I have heard even then they often have an ulterior purpose. Do remember, I have heard enough of my mother’s tales to know a bit about you.”

Of all the wizards, Gandalf was the one who travelled to see to problems all over Middle-Earth. The other two wizards his mother had told him about remained in their places and resolved problems that others brought to them. As much as she had enjoyed travelling with him, Belladonna had always been aware there was at least one other purpose to the journey, if not multiple.

A sigh confirmed his suspicions. “I _am_ sorry, Bilbo. Had time allowed me, I would have come by far earlier, and with a far more innocent purpose. I would request something of you, but it is best spoken of in private.”

“Well then,” Bilbo started, before trailing off. Breathing in deeply, he let the air out in a sigh, firming his resolve. “Well then, since the day is far too nice to go inside now, I must insist we take this time to relax and catch up. Supper will be early enough to discuss any serious matters, and mother always kept a room ready for you, so it would be no problem for you to stay here for a night. Would that be alright for you?”

The wizard seemed torn between amusement and something Bilbo couldn’t identify, but he did nod. “That seems like a fine plan. Some relaxation would do me good, I think.”

“Feel free to let out your Pokémon as well, if you want to. It should be no problem to provide some food for them as well, and they should be out enjoying this beautiful day. It would be rather a waste not to let them.”

Now there was certainly amusement, though Gandalf did release his other three Pokémon. Pidgeot was the first out, stretching her wings widely and looking around. “Today is for relaxing,” Gandalf assured her with a smile. With one last look at her trainer, the bird Pokémon spread her wings again and flew off, until they were unable to see her anymore. When he saw Bilbo’s worried look, the wizard shrugged. “She will be back soon, but it has been a while since she’s been able to fly without a set goal in mind.”

Clefable and Absol needed the same reassurance that this was a day for relaxing, but when the wizard had convinced them, they soon found a nice spot around the large garden to lay down. Altaria, trilling happily, glided down as well.

To Bilbo’s regret – and Gandalf’s as well, he thought – the day passed quickly. Pidgeot indeed returned, finding a nice tree to rest in while keeping an eye on all of them. As the two trainers caught up, Bilbo occasionally retreating inside to grab more food or drinks, Clefable soon found himself playing along with some of the grass Pokémon that had made the garden of Bag End their home. Absol seemed wary still, but he soon found himself in a conversation with Bellossom.

When the sun started setting, Bilbo moved them inside. Although the wild Pokémon remained outside, he soon found his smial filled with his and Gandalf’s Pokémon. True to the reputation of Hobbits, he provided all of them with a hearty supper, smiling at the happy sighs the food brought out.

After he had cleared the dishes away, he sat down with Gandalf again, the mood turning serious.

“There have been signs,” the wizard started, sounding truly old for the first time that day, “that something dark is stirring. I have no substantial proof, and I am unsure who knows of it, or who is part of it. Part of the problem is that I fear my curiosity might be noticed. Some Gyms, I could visit easily, but even then I am not sure if I would be able to find anything.”

Bilbo frowned. It didn’t sound good, and he had heard enough stories to know Gandalf’s suspicions were rarely unfounded. Yet he had been terribly nonspecific, and the hobbit had no idea what the wizard wanted from him. “So what is it you want to ask of me?”

Silence filled the air for some time. Still, Bilbo was patient, as well as desperate to enjoy the peace before Gandalf’s request would destroy it.

“What I need is someone inconspicuous, who could travel to the different Gyms in order to see if they can find anything untoward. Everyone knows of my affiliation with the elves and men, and dwarves are… noticeable. Especially if they go visit some of the places I worry about. A hobbit, however…”

“You want me to take on a Journey. And to spy on the Gym leaders I face.”

A nod confirmed this. “There have been worrying stories about Azog, in Moria, as well as Smaug in Erebor.”

They were two of the most terrifying Gym leaders Bilbo had ever heard of. Generations ago, Azog had taken over in Moria when a disaster had driven out the dwarves living there. Rumors told that Smaug had been the one who drove out the dwarves from Erebor himself, though no one had dared to contest his leadership yet. Bilbo let out an undignified whimper.

“I don’t know about any of the others, though I cannot imagine any of them being in on this. But to make a visit to Moria and Erebor, it would only be credible for you to have visited other Gyms as well. It would be best if no one were to know that I was the one who sent you, since that might arouse suspicion.”

He wanted to say no. He really, really wanted to say no. Unlike his mother, he had no real desire to travel all across Middle-Earth – further than she had ever gone, even, since she had never gone past Rivendell. But he had known from the very beginning, when he had asked Gandalf why he was really in the Shire, that he would not refuse the wizard. He did not ask for help lightly, and to ask for help from a hobbit meant his need had to be very urgent indeed. But just because Bilbo was resigned to his fate did not mean he have to like it.

“You are very sure this is necessary?” he asked, just to be sure. Even before Gandalf confirmed it, however, he knew it really was. Bilbo sighed. “Very well. Starting tomorrow, I’ll start spreading word around the Shire that your visit and the memory of my mother have me wanting my own adventure. I’ll be leaving soon after that.”

“Meet me in Rivendell at midsummer next year.” A burden seemed to have fallen off Gandalf’s shoulders, though Bilbo could feel it weighing on his. He wondered if he could live up to the expectations, worrying that his mother would have been a far better choice for this task. “If you have need of me before that, you can always send a message, but don’t do so unless there is absolutely no other choice.”

When Gandalf had gone to his room, taking his Pokémon along with him, Bilbo sat in his living room. “Well, you’re finally going to get that adventure you’ve been wanting,” he told Bayleef, a hesitant smile on his face. She rubbed her head to his chest in silent reassurance. “How about you, ready for another adventure?” Bellossom smiled, and though he knew she still missed her original trainer, he could not wish for a more loyal Pokémon to bring along. Azumarill looked determined, and Bilbo smiled at the memory of finding him when he was only an Azurill. They had both grown since then.

He hoped they would be strong enough to make it through this.


	2. A Second Journey (aka Give A Wizard An Inch, And…)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, this contains some background information that deviates from the original Hobbit lore. I couldn't fit a dragon into a universe with Pokémon, but there had to be something that made Smaug more dangerous than your regular human. Hence, this background.
> 
> Second; I am sticking with four Pokémon per trainer, though it's not quite as noticeable yet in this chapter. Any more and I'm scared it will be too much to keep track of, character-building-wise. As it is, thirteen dwarves times four Pokémon per dwarf... It's going to be a lot already.

“Gandalf, what a surprise to see you here!” Bilbo tried his hardest to sound enthusiastic and surprised. If the look on Lord Elrond’s face was any indication, he was successful. “I actually went on a Journey, just like my mother! I decided after your visit that I wanted to see the world, you see. Oh, there is so much to tell, you wouldn’t believe it.”

Even as the indulgent smile on the wizard’s face grew, he could see the concern in his eyes. His scouting mission had been a success, but Bilbo had rather it not have been. As it were, he was paranoid about anyone overhearing them even in Rivendell.

“Well, it is wonderful to see you indeed, Bilbo. It sounds like you have a story I would love to hear indeed. But, perhaps some dinner, first?”

Bilbo blushed. Over a year of travelling had left him missing quite a few meals. Indeed, if any of his hobbit relatives were to see him, they would either be very worried or very affronted. Either way, it would be a shock to the Shire when they saw him return. “I would not wish to impose, but I do confess I have mostly been looking forward to a bath during my journey here,” he confessed. Streams and rivers simply did not compare to the comfort of an actual bath with warm water.

“I will have one prepared for you,” Lord Elrond assured him. With only a nod, his Mr. Mime was on his way out of the room, no doubt to provide the bath. Bilbo had greatly enjoyed his previous visit to Rivendell as well, but that time his enjoyment had been diminished by the fact that he was on his way to far more dangerous places still.

“Thank you so much,” Bilbo gushed. “If there is any way I can be of service to thank you, please do let me know.”

Lord Elrond chuckled. “Well, if you see the opportunity for a rematch during your time here, I would like that very much. I am curious to see how your Pokémon have developed during your travels to the east.” It had taken Bilbo three tries to defeat Lord Elrond, which was about his average for all of the Gym leaders. The defeats allowed for him to take a look around, and with every battle his own Pokémon grew more experienced as well. All leaders fought with two of their Pokémon, and Lord Elrond had trained both his Granbull and his Togetic very well.

“I would be honored,” Bilbo assured the elf lord. His Bayleef had since evolved into Meganium, and he had found the final Pokémon for his team that he could not wait to show. For the young creature’s own protection, he had kept the youngest member of his team in his Pokéball while in any of the Gyms, but now that his task was fulfilled he was excited to see what others would think.

After agreeing to have the battle in two days, he retreated to his guest room in order to get cleaned up. In the privacy of the room, he released all of his Pokémon, laughing when Azumarill instantly joined him in the bath.

It had not been nearly long enough when there was a knock on the door. “One moment,” he called. Dragging himself out of the bath, he regretfully recalled all of them except Bellossom. From the way she was jumping in front of the door excitedly, he could guess who his guest was. Indeed, it was Gandalf who was waiting for him when he opened the door, a tray held in his hands that smelled absolutely amazing.

“I brought you some dinner, so we can catch up in private,” the wizard told him. Bilbo nodded, allowing him inside, and then gestured to Gandalf if anyone could hear them. “No worries, dear Bilbo. No one shall disturb us tonight.”

With a sigh, Bilbo sat down to dinner, serving both himself and Gandalf from the tray. “Well, then. I have good news, bad news, and worse news. Which would you like first?”

He did not like the frown on the wizard’s face, but there was no way this conversation would be pleasant either way. The year he had been away from his home had been productive, but he had also learned things he would rather never have faced. Of course, Gandalf would have known that was a possible consequence.

“I suppose the good news should go first,” Gandalf decided eventually. “If for no other reason than that I am very curious how good this news will be.”

Bilbo smiled grimly. “Well, Azog and Smaug are not working together. I think that was what you feared?”

“It was indeed. I am surprised to hear that I was wrong, however. Something bigger seemed to be brewing.”

“Oh, it is,” Bilbo assured him. “You were not wrong about that. But for all of that, Smaug is not currently working together with anyone, instead isolating himself in the mountain. The bad news is that I am pretty certain he is hiding something in there, something powerful. He used a Charizard and a Sneasel in his Gym battles, although Bellossom saw a Banette around as well. I don’t know what his fourth is, or if that is his secret weapon, but there is something in there.”

Gandalf frowned, but he didn’t add to Bilbo’s speculation. “And the worse news?”

“While Smaug isn’t working with Azog, others are. None of the dwarves, from what I could tell. The three elven Gym leaders seem trustworthy so far, although… I am not entirely sure about Lady Galadriel’s husband, Celeborn.” He paused, noticing the pained look on Gandalf’s face. It would not get a lot better. “Rohan seems well so far, nothing to cause concern. Ecthelion of Gondor I would trust as well, but his father, Turgon, I am not as sure about. Esgaroth is currently under the control of a man calling himself the Master, and I know for a fact he is in on it as well. What worries me…” He swallowed, knowing this would be the hardest blow to Gandalf. “I went to all the Gyms, to keep from seeming suspicious. I just wanted to be thorough, you see? There wasn’t – ”

“Just say it, Bilbo,” Gandalf interrupted, and Bilbo could see he was bracing himself for bad news.

“Saruman is working with Azog.” Silence fell over the room as Gandalf bent his head, an agonized look on his face. “I’m really sorry, Gandalf. I mostly just thought that maybe, other people around were working with Azog, like in Lorien and Gondor. I didn’t actually suspect Saruman.”

Gandalf sighed heavily. “It is not your fault, Bilbo. Though it pains me to hear of his betrayal, it is better to know and to be prepared than to be caught unaware.”

Not sure of what he could do to console the wizard, Bilbo pushed some more food on the other trainer’s plate. A faint smile crossed Gandalf’s face, though he still seemed deep in thought. Rather than disturb him, Bilbo finished up with his own dinner, making sure Gandalf was eating as well. A good meal solved many a problem, and it certainly never did any harm.

For some part, he wanted to ask the wizard what would be done next. A greater part of him, however, wished to be drawn no deeper into all of this. It had taken everything he had not to let on that he knew of the entire thing, especially considering how utterly _intimidating_ some of the conspirators had been. Even now, the thought of them sent a shiver down his spine. No, he would be quite happy to be back in his peaceful Shire, enjoying the lovely summer weather while surrounded by his Pokémon. The thought of it was enough to put a smile right back on his face.

“I need to ask something else of you.”

He was abruptly pulled out of his wonderful thoughts. “Wait, what?” Gandalf could not be serious about this. He had just returned from the journey of a lifetime, and while the experience had been amazing, he wanted desperately to be _safe_ and _home_. Bellossom pushed against his leg, steadying him.

“There is a group of dwarves currently residing here. They are on their way to Erebor.”

“Oh, no.” Bilbo was shaking his head, eyes wide. He knew where this was going and he had absolutely no desire to ever look into Smaug’s creepy golden eyes again. “No, I don’t think so. I’ve had quite enough of travel, thank you very much. I am sure they will do quite well getting back their mountain without me trailing along. No, there is no need for me to be there.”

But Gandalf had managed to catch his eyes, and he was quite unable to look away from the entreating look on the wizard’s face. “But there is a need. In fact, I do not think they will succeed without you.”

All Bilbo was able to manage at that was an undignified, unbelieving squeak.

“Inside the treasury of Erebor, there is a jewel called the Arkenstone.” It was Gandalf’s storytelling voice, and despite his best efforts, Bilbo found himself entranced. “I have been able to provide them with a map and a key to a secret entrance, but someone needs to go in and get the Arkenstone. Dwarves have no skill at moving silently, but hobbits do. They need someone able to sneak into the mountain to steal that stone without Smaug stopping them.”

“And what, in Yavanna’s name, makes you think _I_ would be able to make a difference? I am not some, some… burglar! There are other hobbits that would be far better suited, and probably rather a bit more interested in the adventure in addition. I can get some of my Took cousins for you if you would like me to.” He just wanted to go home and never go out of his door again.

“I am sorry to push yet another burden on you, Bilbo, but I am certain it has to be you.” Gandalf really did look apologetic, but Bilbo still didn’t understand.

“Why me, though? I really don’t get it. There have to be others who would be better at all of this,” he pleaded.

“I was pointed to you.” No doubt noting the utter incredulity on Bilbo’s face, the wizard elaborated. “The first time in over an age that I saw Celebi was the day you were born. I did not know that until later, and it was only a brief visit, but it disappeared west – in the direction of the Shire. The second time was the day I showed up at your door, asking you to go on a journey to find out if my suspicions were right. The third time was right before you showed up here.”

“I don’t mean this in a bad way, but you are basing your belief of my value on seeing a Legendary Pokémon that might have been utter coincidence?” When it looked like Gandalf was about to protest, Bilbo shook his head. “Celebi has always been fond of the Shire, though admittedly it doesn’t show itself often. You’re a wizard, though. You must see Legendaries more often than anyone else. Right?” He tried to ignore how desperate his voice sounded.

“Contrary to popular belief, wizards can’t just go about and chat with any Legendary. When we do see them, it is always a sign. Celebi is a Pokémon that travels time, both ahead and back. To us, seeing Celebi usually means something will be very significant in the future.”

Bilbo wanted to cry. He knew he had lost the moment Gandalf started talking about another favor, but he had hoped to be able to get out of this. “I don’t see it,” he murmured. He could mention five cousins off the top of his head who would be far better suited to all of this, not to mention they might actually be eager for the excuse for an adventure.

“You will,” Gandalf assured him, and Bilbo tried his best to draw some strength from the certainty the wizard expressed.

“Gandalf?”

“Yes, Bilbo?”

There were a lot of things he wanted to say, including ‘I am so _not_ doing this’, but in the end, he asked the question that had been bothering him ever since meeting Smaug. If he was to face the other again, he would prefer to know. “What _is_ Smaug actually?”

For a few moments, he feared Gandalf would not answer him. Then, he spoke up. “Smaug is what is left of one of the Istari who got corrupted by Melkor.” Had he been capable of speaking, Bilbo would have been questioning Gandalf right now. As it were, the look on his face must have given away his need to know more. “There are three of us left now. Two, considering the betrayal of Saruman. But once, there were more of us. The blue and purple wizards travelled far east, and no one has heard of them for years. The red travelled west, to the Undying Lands, after seeing too much suffering and pain. But three were captured by Melkor and tortured. The green, unwilling to give in, perished there. But the orange and yellow succumbed, in the end. You might have known of the yellow wizard as Glaurung. The orange became known as Smaug.”

“Oh,” Bilbo breathed. He had heard tales of the terrible deeds that Glaurung and his Pokémon had done, of course. But to hear that he had once been a wizard, sent by the Valar to help Middle-Earth, made it all the worse. Even the thought of torture bad enough to turn a wizard made his stomach roll, and he did not wish to imagine.

“We cannot afford him joining forces with the others. It could mean the end of every good thing in Middle-Earth. Should they give him enough incentive, he will join them.”

“Can’t you talk to him? Try and get him to return to how he was before?”

He had known it was probably a naïve question, but the sad look on Gandalf’s face made him wish it were possible. “Smaug is merely the shell of one who was once my friend. The darkness changed him so deeply there is no turning back. As with the orcs, the first of which were once elves, something entirely new has been created.”

Bilbo really did not want to ask, but… “Azog?”

“The potential for darkness is greatest in those whose light once shone the brightest.”

Nothing could really be said to that, and he hugged Bellossom to his chest tightly. She remained silent, though he could read the silent support from her face. No matter what he chose, she would be there right along with him. He drew strength from her, closing his eyes briefly to envision his mother right there, her hand on his shoulder.

“So, when do I meet these dwarves?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Bilbo will actually meet the dwarves next chapter. As you might have noticed, I have trouble with pacing - I tend to go way too slow, with too much world-building and background information and introspective thoughts. I try my best to keep things moving. I am working on not getting too caught up in character-building to lose any tension in the story. Let me know if you think there's something I need to pay more attention to (or if there's any mistakes you notice).
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	3. A Companionable Journey (aka NOT)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning - the dwarves are _not_ nice right now. There's a lot of distrust, and no Gandalf smoothing the way. It will get better, I promise.
> 
> On the bright side, you get to see some of their Pokémon :D

As it turned out, there was no official meeting. Bilbo had his planned battle with Elrond, and Gandalf had thought to perhaps introduce him to the dwarves at that time. It didn’t turn out that way, as the same night the hobbit had arrived in Rivendell, the dwarves’ map had been read by their host. Then, Lord Elrond had announced to the wizard that the White Council would convene the following day, and there had been an increased urgency to get all of them away before being stopped. Gandalf could not be sure, after all, they would believe him when accusing the most powerful of his order of deceit.

So it was that, after only one night of actual peaceful rest, Bilbo was disturbed by Gandalf. The wizard told him to gather up his supplies and meet the dwarves at the north gate for them to sneak out. He would do what he could in Rivendell and join them in the mountains. Then, he handed the hobbit a sword – small for anyone else, but the perfect size for Bilbo. Despite his protests, the wizard insisted it could prove useful, so he strapped it on and tried to ignore his rising nausea.

Eventually, because Bilbo worried and kept asking, Gandalf assured him he had told the dwarves about his joining them. It led the hobbit to believe he would be welcomed and accepted into the group, considering he had Gandalf vouching for him and was coming along to help them achieve their goal.

It was moments like these he cursed his optimism.

He was lucky to spot them first, so he had some preparation. All of them looked fairly rough, despite their time spent in Rivendell, but Bilbo guessed the time spent on the road had not been easy for them. Not to mention they were all dwarves, of course, and their broad builds and beards made them seem rough to Bilbo anyhow.

What astonished him (although he later thought it shouldn’t have) was the fact that he actually recognized one of them. More than any other hobbits, he had always been interested in the yearly Pokémon League Tournament. Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, was a regular participant and unfailingly ended up in the top 4 of challengers. Upon taking a closer look, he also recognized Dwalin, son of Fundin, as a regular. Fíli and Kíli, sons of Víli, were recent additions to the dwarven delegation to the Tournament, but Bilbo had found them impressive despite their inexperience.

As he was trying to absorb the knowledge he would be travelling with four dwarves he had recognized, who had participated in the famous Pokémon League Tournament, a dwarf with star-shaped hair noticed him standing in the shadow.

“Over there,” he called out to the others, and they all turned to him.

Flushing red up to his ears, Bilbo stepped forward to meet them. “Bilbo Baggins, at your service,” he told them, barely remembering the slight bow that accompanied the dwarven introduction. Despite his best intentions, they intimidated him. “Gandalf said to join you here?” It turned out to be more of a question than a statement.

“So, you’re the hobbit.” Thorin looked the hobbit over, and Bilbo thought he looked as unimpressed as he’d sounded, which was very. “I don’t recall ever seeing you at the League Tournament.”

“I, ah… never participated.” In fact, few hobbits ever had, and none in recent years. It required a number of badges that meant travelling, and travelling was not for hobbits. A few of them challenged the Thain for a badge, fewer went to Bree to get that badge, and there had been a rare few hobbits (the Thain himself and Bilbo’s own mother included) that had travelled to Ered Luin and Rivendell for some more badges.

Thorin snorted at the reply, looking ever more critical. “I see you’ve got that little letter-opener Gandalf collected. Tell me, have you done much fighting?”

“What, this?” He looked at the sword, startled. “I have no idea how to use that!” Hobbits did not use weapons. The fact that Gandalf had managed to push it on him at all was testament to how overwhelmed he was by all of it. Had he not promised the wizard he would bring it along, he would have left it here in an instant.

“Didn’t think so. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar.” Apparently he was not even worth any more consideration, the dwarf turning away from him and addressing the others instead. Bilbo was quite astonished at the rudeness, especially since he was supposed to be helping them. Wouldn’t that inspire at least a little bit of respect, or kindness? He was starting to see why other races would dislike dwarves.

Nonetheless, he had given Gandalf his word, and so he followed them when they left, sticking to the end of the line. He allowed himself one final look back at Rivendell, hoping Lord Elrond would find his letter and already regretting giving in to the wizard.

The dwarves set a steady pace, but walking was something hobbits were made for, and Bilbo had been walking a lot this past year. So he was able to keep up easily, and although he kept his eyes on the road, he noticed a few of the dwarves looking back to check on him. To his relief, his unknown presence in their midst did not seem to ruin the mood all that much, and soon there were several conversations going on in front of him.

Since none of them appeared to be gearing up to talk to him, or even to introduce themselves, he busied himself imagining which Pokémon each of them had. Dwarves tended mostly to Rock, Ground and Steel types, but Bilbo also knew these dwarves, prepared to take this journey, probably had some more variety. He expected Fire and Fighting as well, and he knew Kíli was completely atypical for a dwarf. His Arcanine was the only Pokémon that followed the typical pattern, although Flygon made an odd sort of sense. His choice for a Swampert had surprised many of his enemies, however, and his Jolteon made for probably the most well-balanced team Bilbo had ever seen off a dwarf.

Fíli was slightly less odd, favoring his Rapidash and Flareon. Of course, then he had a Gligar that had surprised quite a few of his opponents, and the Kabutops he had somehow managed to procure was possibly his strongest Pokémon. He didn’t make it quite as far as his younger brother in the Tournament, but Bilbo could tell he was far more steady than his brother. If they did manage to retake Erebor, he would probably take over the Gym after Thorin retired.

Dwalin made for only one surprise. His Steelix was impressive although predictable, as was his Machamp. Along with his Tyranitar, they made a powerful team, although slow. That was completely offset by the final Pokémon in his team – Persian. Bilbo wondered about the story behind that choice, guessing it was most likely an interesting one. If dwarves favored a Normal-type, they generally went for the more overtly powerful ones. The fact that a Persian had made it in one of their teams meant the dwarf was one Bilbo knew to watch out for.

The only other one he knew the team composition of for sure was Thorin, who favored Fire heavily. Except for an Aggron that had wiped the floor with more Pokémon than Bilbo had probably ever met, the dwarf only possessed Fire Pokémon. And although his Charizard and Blaziken were utterly impressive, Bilbo had to confess to admiring his Ninetales the most. The elegance of the Pokémon was amazing to watch, and he could see the loyalty she felt towards her trainer. It assured him that, despite the dwarf’s offensive treatment of himself, there were some redeeming features to Thorin Oakenshield.

It was utterly impossible to guess for all of the others, of course. Instead, watching their interactions with one another, he made silent bets with himself about who would be most likely to have surprising choices. None of the older dwarves, he thought. The dwarf with the hat, he did bet on. There was another dwarf, possibly as young as Fíli and Kíli and his hair in a bowl-cut that made him look rather unintimidating, that Bilbo thought might be cause for some surprises as well. He hesitated a while on the one with the star-shaped hair that had seen him first, then decided that no one would ever know and he might as well expect him to surprise as well. He had nothing better to do, after all, and he found his hands often going to his Pokéballs as if to look for assurance that he was not alone with beings that all disliked or disregarded him.

By the time evening fell – Bilbo estimated they would take a little less than a week to reach the mountains – he was exhausted, more because of the tension than the walking.

“We rest here,” Thorin commanded. Bilbo kept standing, mostly because he did not want to give them the satisfaction of seeing him sit down first. The dwarf was quick about dividing tasks between all of them. “Hobbit, may I assume you brought some rations of your own?” It was said with a sneer, as if that might have been too much to ask, and Bilbo swallowed back a retort as he nodded. “Bombur’s in charge of the food, go talk to him.”

Bilbo was glad Thorin had turned away from him, because he could not help the look on his face. Who was Bombur even? He hadn’t had introductions to anyone, after all.

Too scared to ask and get another snide comment, he looked around until he could see a dwarf with fiery-red hair start the beginnings of a fire pit, another dwarf pulling a pot from his pack. He estimated the latter, who had an impressively thick braid falling over his chest and a body any hobbit would be jealous of, would be the cook.

“Excuse me? Mister Thorin said to talk to you about the food?”

To his surprise, it looked as though the dwarf blushed a bit. Was he shy? “Ah, yes. Jus’ show what ye have on ye.”

Encouraged by the lack of negative comments, Bilbo tried his best to draw out the dwarf. While personal questions had the other shut down, he soon found that Bombur was very willing to talk about food, its preparation and its taste. Fortunately for Bilbo, that was a topic any hobbit could talk about for hours, and so the two were soon chatting while the hobbit helped the dwarf prepare the food for the company. When two dwarves Bilbo didn’t yet know brought wood for the fire, Bombur called for his Slugma to start a fire. The hobbit couldn’t help his giggle when, after starting the fire, the Pokémon happily relaxed in the middle of it.

“He does that sometimes. Need to keep a better eye on the food, ‘course, ‘cause it burns faster. Seeing ‘im happy’s worth it, though,” Bombur confessed, and Bilbo smiled brightly at him. That made Bombur blush again, though he did smile in return. Bilbo counted it as a victory.

Unfortunately, the food was soon done, and Bilbo found himself alone on the outskirts of their camp. Bombur was seated with the dwarf with the hat and another dwarf he was surprised to find actually had a piece of… he didn’t know, something sharp, stuck in his head. The wounded dwarf was making odd sounds, and Bilbo wondered if it was the secret language of the dwarves he had heard about, since the other two seemed to understand him just fine and were talking back.

All of the others were also sitting in groups – Thorin with Dwalin and an older dwarf, the fiery-haired dwarf from earlier with someone with a horn in his ear, the bowl-cut dwarf between an older dwarf and the star-haired one, and Fíli and Kíli all the way off to the side. A smile crossed Bilbo’s face when he noticed they had released Flareon and Jolteon, who were struggling playfully on the ground a bit further away.

Turning back to the other dwarves had him crossing Thorin’s line of sight, and Bilbo startled when he noticed the sharp glare sent his way from the dwarf. It wiped the smile off his face immediately, and he didn’t look anywhere but at the ground for the rest of the evening.

Once it was time for them to retreat to their bedrolls, Bilbo could only be relieved. This entire travelling thing really made him uncomfortable, especially since he was quite sure the dwarves didn’t even want him along. He knew for certain they didn’t trust him, Thorin making sure to exclude him from the watch schedule. Bilbo swallowed a feeling, wondering if it was hurt or anger, before deciding to be glad for it. At least he could sleep the entire night through.

His sleep ended up being restless, however, and he imagined having felt eyes on him all night. For all he knew, the dwarves were keeping an eye on him as much as on their surroundings.

He was glad to be able to help Bombur with preparing breakfast, however, and managing a pleasant, if superficial, conversation with him. Bilbo rather thought it might help him through the rest of the day, even if they all ignored him again.

That evening, he wished they had. The hatted dwarf had approached him, warning him to be careful around Bombur, or he’d make Smaug appear like a Togepi in comparison – all said in a voice that sounded ever so kind, but seemed all the more threatening for it. Bilbo had nodded, scared, before being left alone again. The star-haired dwarf approached him next, asking about weapons, of all things. Upon finding out the ‘letter-opener’ was all he had, and that Bilbo had no idea how to use even that, he proceeded to ever-so-subtly point out some of his own knives, how sharp they were, and how easily they could cut through hobbit skin. Bilbo was too scared even to respond. The older dwarf, who had some of the most impressive braiding Bilbo had ever seen and who was still walking along the one with the bowl-cut hair, only turned to glare at the hobbit once he was alone again, the message clear. He was not to approach.

Feeling all of their eyes on him, he was too scared to even start a conversation that evening. His hands shook as he cut vegetables for the stew Bombur was preparing. As soon as he could, he retreated to a corner, backing himself up against a tree, and ate in silence.

Remembering the experience from the evening before, he watched the dwarves only surreptitiously. He hardly felt up to being threatened by more of them.

At least he had now seen some of their Pokémon, as they quickly dispatched the wild Pokémon that came looking for a fight. While Fíli, Kíli and Dwalin took on most of them, he had now seen the fiery-haired dwarf possessed a strong Donphan and Dugtrio. The one with the shard in his head had fought off a Spearow with a vicious Primeape, and the hatted dwarf had released his Typhlosion for a bit. There were no surprises yet, but Bilbo did not consider his bet lost.

Two days down, far too many still to go. He wished he’d gone home to the Shire instead.


	4. A Dangerous Journey (aka This Was So Much Better Alone)

As they approached the Misty Mountains, Bilbo carefully kept himself separated from the others. Since at first none of them willingly approached him (having eloquently warned him off everyone who would be friendly to him), this was rather easy to do.

He knew they talked about him occasionally, the looks and the somewhat disdainful laughter making that pretty clear.

Despite the fact that he knew for a fact he had done nothing that would excuse their treatment of him, he felt somewhat hesitant to call for his Pokémon. On one hand, it would mean there was finally a friendly face around that actually cared for him. On the other hand, however, he was ashamed. He knew at least Bellossom would be enraged with the way these dwarves were acting. He did not want more arguing, no matter how dearly he would love having someone around that would not ignore him or glare at him.

It wasn’t all bad, either. While most of the elder members clearly disliked him, some of the younger ones would probably have approached him if it weren’t for the others stopping them. The young dwarf with the bowl-cut, who he had found out was called Ori, often glanced back curiously. Fíli and Kíli had to be intercepted regularly, and occasionally Thorin would rant at them for a bit and they would stay away from him for a few hours. Bombur seemed to like him as well, though Bilbo could tell the dwarf was too shy to approach him. They occasionally exchanged secret smiled while working on dinner, however, and in the face of how the others were acting, it was more than enough to lighten his heart.

What surprised him more were the looks – not unkind, which was a change from everyone else – from the wounded dwarf. Days of overhearing conversations between all of them had him figuring out all of their names, and Bifur was the only one of the older dwarves who didn’t reject him outright.

From what Bilbo could tell, he was unable to speak Westron. It rather made a good conversation impossible, but over the days of travelling, Bifur was the only occasionally willing to walk with him. There had been looks at first, mostly curious. Then, during dinner on the third evening, most of the dwarves had released their smaller Pokémon for bathing, hunting, gathering and just generally stretching their legs. Bilbo’s unintentional coo had drawn the attention of Bifur’s Cubone, and the creature had cuddled with him for over an hour. Fortunately, most other dwarves hadn’t paid attention – he was sure there would’ve been a lot of glares otherwise. Bifur himself had noticed, but he clearly hadn’t minded.

The next day, he walked next to Bilbo for a short while, and the hobbit had asked questions about Cubone. The other had done his best to answer with nods, shakes of his head and gestures Bilbo tried to interpret the best he could. He had smiled the rest of the day – secretly, mind. It wouldn’t do for any of the dwarves that disliked him to realize he wasn’t actually feeling awful.

Of course, the others did notice. Unlike with Bombur, however, Bofur (the hatted dwarf that had threatened him) only looked very hesitant, glaring at him a few times when neither Bifur or Bombur were looking. Both Dori and Nori, Ori’s brothers, spent a lot of time glaring. Once, he’d even seen Nori draw a knife from his spiked hair, wave it at him with a smile on his face that made the threat very clear, and then hide it again. Dwalin’s brother Balin just looked at him with exasperated disdain, Dwalin himself openly scoffed at Bilbo, and Thorin just _glared_.

Bilbo swallowed, looking away every time he noticed, and tried not to be too discouraged. He wouldn’t approach anyone, but if any of them did, he certainly wasn’t going to tell them no.

It did make him wonder why they all disliked him so much, though. What had he ever done to any of them? That they would be unfamiliar with him made sense, and he could imagine some might not be comfortable with him. But this open hostility seemed a bit much for someone they had never met before. Someone that was here to _try to help them_ , even.

He imagined his mother in his place. She certainly wouldn’t have been afraid to put any of them in their place, or even just ask them what in Yavanna’s name was going on and why they were behaving the way they were.

Of course, he was not his mother. Despite the hopes of some, he was neither his mother (in case people wanted someone adventurous and daring) nor his father (in case people wanted someone steady and respectable). Yet, for all their differences, they were both strong in a similar way, knowing what they wanted and going for it without any doubts. Bilbo had often thought he was the absolute worst combination of the two he could imagine, unable to manage respectability and yet not a true adventurer either, instead blown away by any kind of strong wind. He was hesitant and shy and wanted people to think well of him, doing what was expected of him rather than looking at what he really wanted. Then again, it didn’t help that he had no idea exactly what he wanted.

Except right now. Right now, he wanted these dwarves to be nicer.

Not that he had the courage to do something about that himself, of course.

So nothing changed, and soon they were heading up the mountains. Bilbo had preferred to take a slightly more southern pass, despite it being a bit around, but he wasn’t going to speak up if the dwarves wanted to take this one. He just watched his feet carefully, making sure not to slip on the narrow way. Wouldn’t that be embarrassing – depending on those dwarves to save his life? They might just let him fall, at that.

Watching his feet meant he wasn’t watching the sky, and so the storm rather took him by surprise. One moment everything seemed as alright as it ever was, the next there were clouds and raindrops the size of conkers. He bit back a curse when it became more difficult to see, dark clouds hiding the sun. Having come across a few storms (though none as bad as this one. Perhaps nature disliked these dwarves as well? He wouldn’t be too surprised) he stuck close to the ground to make sure the winds would not get a grip on him and he wouldn’t slip. He _really_ did not want his life depending on the dwarves.

Then things became even worse, and he wondered if the dwarves really were bad luck somehow. Somewhere to their right side, a huge roar sounded. All of the dwarves froze, and Bilbo did as well. He was pretty sure he recognized that sound, and that wasn’t a good thing.

From the left, another roar sounded, and Bilbo whimpered. Fortunately, the noise of the storm and two rampaging Tyranitar made it completely inaudible.

Thorin, at the front of the line, screamed something Bilbo was pretty sure was something in their dwarf language. From the intonation, he guessed a curse. Then, he turned to the rest of them. “Anyone with Fighting Pokémon, call them!” he yelled. Bilbo had to admit, it was good strategizing. Their room was very limited, and Fighting was especially effective against Tyranitar. It was something he had learned watching some of Dwalin’s matches in the League, and something they might be able to use now.

When it looked as though Dwalin would grab his own Tyranitar, Thorin stayed him. “A third might just bring the entire mountain down!”

Dwalin nodded at that, moving his had away. Instead, he called his Machamp. It was soon joined by the Poliwrath that belonged to Óin, the company’s healer. Bifur had called his Primeape, and the three Ri brothers had a Hitmonlee, Hitmonchan and Hitmontop to help out.

Rocks soon started flying, and Bilbo was trying his hardest to push against the mountain and not get hit by anything. When he had to dive away from yet another attack that did more damage to the mountains than to the Pokémon fighting, something broke inside. He grabbed one of his own Pokéballs, calling for Meganium. If nothing else, it would be good practice for her Vine Whip to hit the rocks in the air before they hit any of them.

Despite the situation in which she had been called out, she adapted quickly, standing over a cowering Bilbo and using her Vine Whip to make sure none of them would get hurt.

Looking back, he was so incredibly glad he had.

Crying out at a vicious Karate Chop from Dwalin’s Machamp, one of the Tyranitar started a Rock Slide in return – right on top of the company. Most of them were able to jump away, but one of the ones in the middle was Ori, who seemed frozen. “Ori!” his oldest brother cried. “Hitmonlee, grab him!”

The Pokémon’s strong legs meant he was able to grab the young dwarf and jump far enough to get the both of them to safety. It did not, however, help those still stuck.

Dori, who had prioritized his younger brother, now looked in horror at the Rock Slide coming his way. Kíli, who had earlier been pushed to the middle for safety by his older brother, had no way of getting out. Finally there was Bombur, who might have been fast enough to get out, but who would have bowled either Dori or Kíli off the mountain if he had.

From either side, dwarves looked on in horror as the rocks started hitting the path. It only took two rocks to block the sight of the three still stuck in the Rock Slide.

It was the last the dwarves in the front saw of their family as what seemed like half the mountain kept falling. Thorin and Fíli called out for Kíli, and Ori struggled in Hitmonlee’s arms to get to his brother. Balin, Dwalin, Óin and Glóin looked on in horror, holding Thorin and Fíli back, and Bifur screamed in rage, a red haze coming across his vision.

“We have to finish the Tyranitar!” Dwalin bellowed. It did not seem to affect most of them, caught up as they were, but Ori and Bifur turned back to the fight with rage on their faces. For the first time this journey, they did what dwarrow were most famous for – fighting right alongside their Pokémon to defeat others. They were the only race that would fight other Pokémon themselves, though it was not often necessary. Right now, there was no stopping them.

Poliwrath kept close to Óin and the others, protecting them for lack of further instruction from his trainer. Hitmonlee and Hitmonchan, although both cut off from their trainers, now followed Ori and Hitmontop into battle as he took on one of the Tyranitar on his own. Dwalin, Machamp, Bifur and Primeape went after the other, drawing on their rage and desperation for strength.

The only thing that would draw a Tyranitar out of a rage would be to make them faint, and they were determined to end this.

Dwalin and Bifur were done first, but neither of them moved on to help Ori. It would show disregard for his skills. Had he been in obvious trouble, it would have been different, but he was holding his ground astonishingly well. It was clear he was used to fighting along with his brothers’ Pokémon, and they with him. The red haze had faded a bit for Bifur, and he looked on as he fought not to let his grief take over. Dwalin, on the other hand, was looking with undisguised admiration and respect at the strength Ori was displaying. It was surprising, coming from the usually placid dwarf.

Confident he could manage, Dwalin looked back at where the Rock Slide had cut off the path, as well as vision to the others. They were digging, pushing the rocks down as though their friends would be buried underneath. For all they knew, they might be. “Machamp, use Strength to help them out. And be careful,” he told the Pokémon at his side, and he nodded and moved to help out. It would be quicker than digging by hand.

He looked on silently as Thorin and Fíli held onto one another, blank looks on the faces of all dwarves.

“Anything yet?” a steady voice asked from his side. He turned to see Ori, his hair soaked with the rain and a look on his face Dwalin couldn’t name and didn’t like.

“Not yet.”

It was becoming increasingly clear that the three dwarves had not, in fact, been buried under the rocks. Kíli’s was the first pack Machamp found, stuck at the side of the cliff. The prince was not attached.

“Balin,” he reminded his brother.

It looked as though Balin was shaken from a deep sleep as he slowly grabbed for Noctowl’s Pokéball, calling for the Flying Pokémon. “Noctowl, go…” His voice got strangled, and he coughed. “Go check at the bottom.” With a screech, the Pokémon obeyed, diving off. Silence followed as they all simply watched Machamp move the rocks away, finding none of their friends.

Just as Noctowl reappeared by them, Machamp got the final rocks out of the way.

_~ On the other side ~_

While the first rock blocked all sight of the front of the company, the back was perfectly able to see a large rock falling and knocking the three dwarves in the middle down and off the path.

“Meganium!” was all Bilbo could manage, but she was smart and well-trained. Even as Nori and Bofur screamed for their brothers, vines shot out past them and down to where the three were falling. The two of them moved to the edge, trying to see what had happened, only for Bilbo to pull them out of the way of yet another falling piece of rock.

The two dwarves and the hobbit fell, just out of reach of the Rock Slide. Bilbo cursed the rain as he tried to see Meganium, letting out a breath of relief when she was standing where he had left her – and with her vines reaching out over the edge of the path and clearly under pressure.

Nori and Bofur were quick to follow, although fortunately they were a bit more careful getting closer to the ravine this time. “All of them!” Bofur cried, the relief obvious in his voice. “It got all of them!”

“You’ll have to tell them to climb up,” Bilbo told him, not moving away from Meganium. It was clear she was struggling with the weight, and he suspected the movement had cut into her vines as well. They were not meant to hold things, and the only reason she could even do so was the fact that hobbits liked for their Pokémon to have hobbies as well. Meganium loved helping out in the kitchen and handing him ingredients, although it had taken some training for her to be able to do so without destroying them. “Can they manage that?”

“Climb up everyone!” Bofur yelled down, trying his best to be heard over the sound of the storm still going on. Then, a frown on his face, he turned to Bilbo. “Can it hold them?”

“She’s strong, and stubborn,” Bilbo assured him. “She won’t let them fall.”

He was unable to see what was happening over the side, instead whispering to Meganium how well she was doing and how he would feed her a delicious Oran Berry because she was doing so great. Fortunately, neither Bofur nor Nori seemed worried enough for him to think something was going drastically wrong. After some time, Bofur was reaching down and Kíli appeared over the side, panting heavily. “I much prefer staying _underneath_ mountains, I think.”

Dori was the second one up, turning around immediately to help Bombur over the edge as well. Bilbo pretended not to notice their shaking as he pulled the promised Berry out of his pack. With a happy cry, Meganium dived into it, and he couldn’t help his grin. As spoiled as his cooking had made her, few things lived up to an Oran Berry in stressful times.

When he looked back up, it was to see the five dwarves looking at him. He blushed instantly, nervous with the attention. Before any of them could say a thing though, the sound of rock moving around drew their attention to the path, where the others had suddenly appeared behind what he recognized was Dwalin’s Machamp.

There was a multitude of happy cries as they reunited, and Bilbo looked on from the side. He almost missed the Ri brothers approaching him, but turned to face them. “Our thanks for saving me,” Dori said, bowing and sounding fairly formal. At his sides, Nori and Ori bowed as well.

Astonished, Bilbo tried to find his voice. “Ah… You’re welcome? It was Meganium doing all the work, anyhow, so really it’s her you should be thanking.”

To his further surprise, they then turned to face her and thanked her as well. She made a happy sound, softly bouncing her head into Dori’s chest. Bilbo couldn’t help chuckling. “As you probably guessed, that means you’re very welcome.”

“I don’t understand.” Clearly, Dori was their spokesperson. Behind the three of them, Bilbo vaguely recognized they had the attention of the others as well. “We have not treated you kindly, and yet you help us?”

“Just because you acted the way you did doesn’t mean I want you _dead_ ,” the hobbit managed, his voice hardly more than a squeak in his shock. There was a lot more he wanted to say – that he didn’t understand why they acted the way they did, that he had come along on this crazy quest to _help_ them, that he was seriously wondering what was _wrong_ with all of them – but in the end he could only look astonished.

Something changed in Dori’s face then, as well as in Nori’s, but Bilbo didn’t have time to assess it all. Instead, he found himself hugged quite tightly by Ori, and it felt so nice he would be quite satisfied not to have to worry about anything for a bit.


	5. A Changing Journey (aka Dwarves Aren’t Completely Awful)

Meganium’s actions hadn’t won all of them over, of course. Bilbo had, in fact, heard Thorin’s mutter about how he wasn’t ‘completely useless’. He also hadn’t missed Dwalin and Glóin’s chuckles at that. Hobbit ears were larger for a reason, after all. Balin and Óin still completely ignored him, as they had before, and it was clear they didn’t think he’d ever amount to much.

Dori, Nori and Bofur, all of whom had been the most openly threatening to him at first, now looked at him searchingly. It almost seemed as if trying to see what to make of him. They weren’t friends by any reckoning, but they did not seem to be disliking him at least.

The biggest change, of course, was the fact that they now allowed him to interact with Bombur and Ori. It was easily the change he was gladdest about. Aside from that, both Kíli and his older brother clearly refused to be held back from the hobbit who had saved the youngest prince. Despite the ongoing rain and the uncomfortable height of the mountain, this was the happiest Bilbo had been since starting to travel with the dwarves.

They stuck to the back of the line, which had become Bilbo’s default spot. It helped him keep as far away from the disparaging comments the dwarven king made about him, and it would feel odd to walk among the others when he wasn’t included anyway. Now, he wasn’t alone.

“You should have seen him,” Fíli cried out, a blushing Ori walking nearby. “He was going after that Tyranitar, along with the Pokémon, getting hits in and doing as much damage as they were!”

“It was hardly as impressive as all that,” Ori demurred. It was clear he was embarrassed with the subject.

Both Dori and Nori, who had been unable to see, now looked at their younger brother with a look in their eyes Bilbo tried to decipher. He guessed it was something between surprise, worry and pride, though the pride definitely won out.

“So it’s true dwarves actually train along with their Pokémon?” He’d heard stories, of course, but he’d never seen with his own eyes.

“Not for regular battles, of course,” Kíli took over from his brother. “But we dwarrows don’t really like to depend on others, so we make sure we can keep up in case it’s necessary. Training is mostly with wild Pokémon or one another. We actually have our own tournaments, in which we fight alongside our teams. It helps us get to know our Pokémon in a completely different way, too.”

“I believe that,” Bilbo confessed. It all sounded fairly dangerous to him, but then dwarves (dwarrows?) were built rather differently from hobbits. “To be honest, Pokémon training for hobbits consists more of them learning to join us in our everyday activities. Meganium loves to help out with the cooking.”

“Help out how?” It was the usually shy Bombur who spoke up now.

Bilbo turned to him with a smile. “Well, she’s always good for handing me ingredients I need, or stirring. Learned to use her Vine Whip rather like hands just for that. Cutting things with her Razor Leaf, gathering ingredients… She does all kinds of things, really. Bellossom rather prefers to help out with gardening instead. She used to be my mother’s, and ma always had her help out as well. I think it reminds her of ma to help me out, not to mention she loves the flowers of course.”

“Tha’ sounds wonderful.”

“Yeah,” Fíli agreed with Bombur. “It sounds like it can be a lot of fun as well.”

“Well, not every Pokémon likes the same things, of course,” Bilbo said. “The first few times you try something out usually end up to be a failure, but as long as you can have fun doing it…”

Ori looked pensive, and Bilbo looked at him inquiringly. “Oh, I was just wondering what my Pokémon might like to do. It’s not something dwarrows really think a lot about – most of our Pokémon are picked for their ability to fight or to be useful when we pursue our own craft.” Now, he looked almost sad. “Or do you think it’s because hobbits live so differently?”

Although Bilbo was not quite sure what he was talking about, he shook his head. “There’s really a lot Pokémon can and like to do, depending on the individual. Like I said, it takes some trying, but something can be found for everyone. Once we get your mountain back, I can show you some things we do around the Shire, for example? I know your types are a bit different from ours, but I really don’t think it should be too much of a problem.”

It made Ori seem happier, at least, and Bilbo smiled when he heard some of the ideas Fíli and Kíli thought up for their Pokémon.

For the rest of the day, he talked happily with Bifur and Bombur, the latter translating a bit. While Bilbo was getting the hang of the basic hand signals Bifur used, it would take more time and practice before he could have an actual conversation in it. Bombur seemed not at all put out with translating, fortunately.

The rain didn’t let up, unfortunately, and it got dark early. Thorin was clearly unhappy with stopping early, but they were all soaked and it was becoming unsafe to navigate the mountain any further.

Bilbo was very glad when they found a cave, especially since it was a relatively comfortable one. The floor was nice and even, it was big enough to fit all of them easily and the entrance was small enough not to let the rain in. He couldn’t help the happy smile that crossed his face, which Thorin unfortunately noticed. The dwarf king sneered at him, though he didn’t outright insult Bilbo.

As the hobbit scrambled to a nice spot in the back of the cave, he wondered again what was wrong with Thorin. Instead of being glad to have him along, it almost seemed as though he had gotten more angry with Bilbo’s presence. It made no sense to him, and yet he was too much of a coward to ask.

Now that there were other dwarrows talking to him, however, he might be able to ask them.

Soon after, Thorin assigned Bofur to first watch and told the rest of them to go to sleep. Hesitantly, Bilbo signed _’question’_ over to Bombur, who gave him a nod. With Bofur away, Bilbo was not hesitant to put down his bedroll near the two dwarrows who had accepted him first. It didn’t take long for everyone to have fallen asleep, the rain still falling outside and obscuring their voices a bit.

“I’m terribly sorry to bother you, but it’s just that I’ve been wondering, for a while now…” He was still hesitant to ask, but gathered up what courage he had. “Why do – did? – you all dislike me so much?”

Bombur blushed. “Ah, mostly the way ye became part a the company, really.”

“The way I… What?”

“It jus’ seemed ye were makin’ light of it all, treatin’ it as though it were some fun outing for ye.”

“I think I’m missing something,” Bilbo confessed, now truly confused. “Exactly when did I do that?”

Now Bombur frowned, and partially he just wanted to apologize and leave everything be. But he still didn’t understand, and clearly he had somehow made an awful impression without even meeting them… or hearing of them.

“Look, it’s prob’ly different for ye and yer comfortable hobbit hole, but we didn’t take on this quest lightly. This is important to us,” Bombur said intently. “We don’t know why ye wanted to join, if it’s the reward or the fame or what else. But it weren’t much of a first impression when we’re forced to bring ye ‘long, or that ye insist on meetin’ us at the elf place, of all Middle-Earth, as though ye can command us around.”

“Forced?” It was like there was a completely different story he had no idea about.

“Well, what else would ye call Gandalf jus’ about threatenin’ to destroy the map an’ key an’ leave us if we don’ take ye ‘long?” Bilbo could hear the frustration in Bombur’s voice, and despite the dwarf having been nice to him before, he could almost sense the distance between them increasing.

“Look.” Clearly, this needed setting straight. “I have no idea what Gandalf told you or did or said, or even what you took from that. But I am not the kind of person to _ever_ make a joke out of someone looking for a home. Gandalf said he thought I was necessary, and I trust him even though I don’t see how I can make a difference. And I don’t know why he threatened you to bring me along, or all of that, but the first time I even heard about your quest was when Gandalf told me in Rivendell, the evening before I met all of you.”

He wasn’t sure which misunderstandings there had all been, and the level of hostility indicated there had probably been more, but Bilbo was wet and tired and not nearly as eloquent as he felt he should be. Still, it seemed to be doing some good, if the look on Bombur’s face was any indication.

“Wait, ye weren’t the one demandin’ we meet ye in Rivendell?”

“I arranged with Gandalf to meet there at midsummer, but that was done over a year ago. I hadn’t spoken to him since.”

“An’ ye weren’t the one demandin’ to join us?”

“I didn’t know I would be until Gandalf asked me to, the evening before I met all of you. He’s the one who assured me I should.”

“An’ ye didn’t just do it fer the reward?”

“I did it because Gandalf said I was needed and, like I said, I tend to trust him.” He wondered now if he had been wrong to do so, considering all this. “And I don’t know what reward you mean, to be fairly honest.”

“It was specified in the contract.” It sounded like this was another reason the dwarrows had been angry with him, but Bilbo was glad to find the conversation far enough along that, instead of accusing, Bombur sounded more hesitant than anything. “Didn’t ye read it?”

“I’m terribly sorry, but I haven’t seen or heard about any contract.” He was aware he was starting to sound rather more bewildered with every question Bombur asked him, but it was hardly something he could help. Most of what the other was telling him, or asking him, was completely new to him. Bilbo was increasingly sure there was rather a lot Gandalf hadn’t told him.

“But the wizard had this whole argument with Thorin and Balin ‘bout gettin’ ye fairer terms and everythin’! Thought Thorin was gonna run ‘im through at some points, but then the wizard got angry at them an’ they were forced ta do what he wanted. He took it along ta give ta ye in Rivendell.”

The longer the conversation continued, the more Bilbo was sure that as much as he could trust Gandalf, the wizard seemed to have been less than kind to the dwarrows. He frowned. “Well, I guess the rushed nature of our departure meant he never was able to give it to me. I never saw it at least. I _am_ sorry he practically forced all of you to take me along without a proper explanation, though. Considering this is your home it’s about, he should have shown some consideration at the very least.”

Having finally understood the reason the dwarves seemed to dislike him so much, Bilbo was rather put out with Gandalf and getting increasingly angry the more he thought about it. Wizard or no, that did not mean he had the right to just go trample over others’ opinions when he was convinced of his own being right.

He looked at Bombur and noticed the astonishment on the dwarf’s face. Bilbo wasn’t entirely sure what part of what he said warranted astonishment, but he guessed it might be the entire truth of things. Clearly, the dwarves had gotten a rather unfortunate impression of him from the way Gandalf had chosen to go about things. He guessed Gandalf might have had plans about being there when they all met to make sure things would go the way he wanted them to, but events in Rivendell being what they were… It still wasn’t right, of course, and Bilbo felt rather offended on behalf of the dwarrows. He could foresee a rather put out discussion with the wizard once they met again.

Considering he only kept getting angrier the more he thought about it, the distraction of his glowing sword was almost a good thing. Except that, when he and Bombur stared at it, he realized what it meant when an elven sword glowed.

“Orcs,” he tried to yell, although it came out rather breathy and not nearly as loud as he wanted it to. He and Bombur scrambled up quickly, as did the still awake Bofur and (had the dwarf overheard all of their conversation or was he just very quick to wake?) Thorin. It was too late, however, despite Thorin’s yells for all of them to wake up, and suddenly the previously flat floor collapsed under them.

As it turned out, it wasn’t orcs. Bilbo wasn’t as happy as that could have made him, however, considering the alternative was goblins.

Still dazed from the long drop, he tried to gather his wits together as a huge group of goblins descended on them. The dwarrows, although they had grabbed their weapons, weren’t ready either, and they were soon dragged along. As was predictable with goblins, there were giant swarms of Zubat in the air, the occasional Golbat in-between. The combined noise of them and the goblins, as well as the fall down some sort of rock-slide, had a disorienting effect. All Bilbo could manage was to stay close to Bombur, which had the added advantage that he did not stand out to the goblins, who left him fairly alone.

Before his first travel over these mountains, he had been warned by Elrond about not running across the goblins if he could help it. They were absolutely vicious to intruders, and would kill anyone who had the misfortune of being captured. What had scared Bilbo more was what he had been told about what they did to the Pokémon of those they captured – the balls, with the Pokémon still inside so they could not be used against them, were utterly crushed.

So when the hobbit saw the first of the goblins take the Pokéballs off Fíli, he decided to take advantage of the fact that the goblins rather disregarded him. He smiled reassuringly to Nori, who was the only one that perceived Bilbo stealing everyone’s Pokéballs and exchanging them for empty ones.

He actually sighed with relief when he saw the goblins that had the Pokéballs leave, completely unaware all he had were empty balls. The dwarves were cursing and struggling still, so the goblins’ attention was all on them. Terrified of being left behind and having to navigate the place all by himself, Bilbo stuck close to the larger dwarves and tried his best not to be noticed.

They emerged into a large cavern, again swarmed with both Zubat and goblins. The worst of all, however, was the enormous goblin sitting in a throne-like contraption up on the platform where they were headed.

There had been no way for him to smuggle away the dwarrows’ weapons, so all of them had been collected by the goblins. As they were herded into a circle and the weapons thrown down, the obese goblin deigned to descend from his throne to observe them up close. “Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom? Spies? Thieves? Assassins!?”

“Dwarves, your malevolence,” said a particularly ugly goblin that had been part of the group collecting them.

Bilbo had managed to maneuver himself into the center of the group, where he stood out the least. He would have rolled his eyes at goblin stupidity if he hadn’t been so relieved he still had his small sword, as well as the Pokéballs of the entire company. So instead, he listened silently and tried his best to look around for a viable way for all of them to get away without too much of a chance of death. It wasn’t looking good.

“Send word to Azog that I have his dwarf’s head,” the obese goblin (no way was Bilbo calling that a king) instructed a midget goblin off to the side, which sped off with a cackle.

“As if that filth would leave the safety of _our_ kingdom,” Thorin sneered.

“Oh, but he would!” There was something far too theatrical about the obese goblin. If they were all like this, it no longer surprised Bilbo that a hobbit had killed one of them – even if the goblin were on the winning hand, there was no doubt a hobbit would have enough time to invent another plan. “He’s been looking for you, haven’t you heard? Not that you make it too difficult for him.”

The talking just went _on_ , the goblin trying to bait Thorin and the dwarf sneering and being angry. It did help Bilbo to have the time to be able to cut the ropes tied around some of the most combative dwarrows, which had been applied after the goblins had gotten tired of getting hit and (nearly or completely) getting knocked off their stupidly narrow paths. It was a good thing the dwarf king understood to play for time, until they could get a plan together, and it was a minor miracle that he hadn’t managed to anger the obese goblin into attacking yet.

Good things couldn’t last for them, of course, and just as the torture machines were brought in, one of the goblins decided to inspect the weapons. Apparently Thorin’s sword was famous amongst goblins, for suddenly they were pushed to the ground and attacked by goblins that had grown terrifyingly fierce the moment they heard the word ‘Orcrist’.

Bilbo’s cry as a whip hit his back was covered by the angry screeches of the goblins, and he could hear even the Zubat descending on them.

Then, a bright Flash, combined with a shockwave, pushed everyone to the floor and walls.

When Bilbo managed to gather his wits enough to see what was going on, he saw Gandalf standing on the edge of the platform, Clefable at his side. “Take up arms… Fight… Fight!”

It was enough to get the dwarrows moving, and a few of them rushed to the pile of their weapons and started throwing them around. Knowing that, despite their training, they would not manage without Pokémon on their side, Bilbo called for Bifur as he threw the bag of Pokéballs to him. He caught them with a grin and started to throw them around.

They had gotten mixed up, of course, and the first few minutes were mostly spent throwing around Pokéballs, calling Pokémon, and throwing the Pokéball to the corresponding trainer. All the while, they were fighting with their weapons, and the useful Pokémon were added effortlessly into the fight. Some, like Balin’s Noctowl, had to be returned due to the dangerous number of Zubat circling them. Others, like Dwalin’s Steelix, were far too large for the small area they were fighting in.

During it all, Bilbo stood in awe as they threw around weapons and Pokéballs, each action becoming useful in the fight and not a single weapon being dropped. As he did his best to fend off a goblin of his own, he wondered if they practiced it.

There were far too many goblins, however, and they had to get out before they were overwhelmed again.

Bilbo hoped one of the dwarrows had a plan.


	6. A Luckless Journey (aka Dwarrows Are REALLY Unlucky)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It might be somewhat apparent this chapter gave me some difficulties. I'm torn between moving the story along and character building, and I don't want to make the story _too_ long. Still, I hope you enjoy reading :)

As it turned out, a plan for dwarrows consisted of ‘kill everything while running in the general direction you want to go’. Really, he should have known.

Of course, they were warriors, so it actually did work for them. Everyone was seated on whichever Pokémon could hold them, all the while waving weapons around and throwing them to others when necessary. Bilbo, not at all trained in a situation like this, instead did what he was best at; staying out of the way at supporting them when necessary and possible. He was hardly the best of fighters, but his sword was sharp nonetheless and a few goblins fell to his hands as well. He was certain he would have nightmares of the screams.

Meganium did great, following the others closely and using her Vine Whips and Razor Leaf to thin out the amount of bat Pokémon around them. The goblins came from all over the walkways and seemed to be climbing the walls as well, but their Pokémon were everywhere.

At the front of the row, he could see the fiery attacks of Fíli’s Rapidash and Kíli’s Arcanine, the Zubat screeching away to prevent being burned.

Just as Bilbo was starting to believe they might make it, there was a noise like a bomb going off. Even as he whimpered, he could feel Meganium doing the same under him. He looked to the front, trying to ignore the ringing in his ears, and he saw the obese goblin standing there with an Exploud. It was impossible to tell what the creature was saying – hobbit ears were _sensitive_ , thank you very much – but suddenly he had called for three more Pokémon.

The Exploud was joined by a Snorlax, a Slaking and a Muk.

For a second, Bilbo worried this was the end of their escape, and they would all find their end in these stupid caves – far away from anyone’s home. Then Thorin, Fíli and Kíli stepped up next to Gandalf, determination on their faces, and the hobbit simply couldn’t imagine how they couldn’t win, even with the obese goblin at an advantage in his kingdom.

Fighting in the front, however, did not change the fact that goblins were still coming after the rest of them, as well as the Zubat swarming around them.

He recalled Meganium, noticing the others recalling their bigger Pokémon as well. Now that they were no longer on the move, they only inhibited movement. Those in the back instead called for their smaller Pokémon, while those in the middle were stuck fending off attacks from the side.

It was obvious that they had put the ‘weaker’ members of the company in the middle, or at least those they most thought should be protected. Bombur was calling out for another Fury Attack from his Farfetch’d right next to Bilbo. On his other side, he could see the tension in Ori’s back as he commanded Corsola to use another Rock Blast on the Zubat around them. Óin was with them as well, his Poliwrath’s Hydro Pump knocking away an entire flock of Zubat and a particularly large Golbat.

While Bilbo would have preferred Azumarill when it came to type advantages, their limited space meant Bellossom was the better option. And while it was not usually an attack he liked for her to use, her Sleep Powder was effective in eliminating huge groups of their enemies.

Most of all, he would have liked to be at his home and safe from all this fighting and danger and death. He was a hobbit and, as such, he was not made for situations like this. While the dwarrows seemed to thrive on the fighting, Bilbo hunched in on himself and prayed to Yavanna this all might be over soon. Even Bellossom, who had travelled with his mother and seen more peril, appeared anything but happy about their situation. She threw around the Sleep Powder, making sure to avoid the bridge they were standing on. Bilbo had never been more grateful his mother had taught her the Hyper Beam attack as when a small group of Golbat almost got close enough to drag some of the company off the bridge.

A crash sounded from the front of the bridge, and before the hobbit could turn to see what had happened, he felt the bridge start sliding underneath him. “Yavanna’s breath,” he cursed, and he heard Bombur mutter next to him.

When they started sliding down, he recalled Bellossom to her Pokéball, instead doing his best to fend off the Zubat with the sword Gandalf had given him. He would not risk having her injured.

As much as he would have liked to describe what happened next, he spent most of the way down with his eyes closed, praying to Yavanna for all of their safety. And while he was not proud of the relieved whimper he let out as they hit the ground, he couldn’t care as he scrambled away and grasped at the solid rock under his feet. If he had a choice, he would prefer never to do this again.

“Well, that coulda been worse,” Bofur remarked, and Bilbo could’ve told him that was a bad idea.

At that very moment, the dead body – wait, how had he turned out to be dead? – of the obese goblin fell on top of the bridge’s remains, all of the dwarrows stuck under him. Only Gandalf and Bilbo himself were spared, and the hobbit could only be glad for it. While dwarrows were built sturdier, he wasn’t sure about wizards and he was certainly sure his ribs would’ve been broken from the force, even with the Protect he could see surrounding them.

Grumbling, the dwarrows pulled one another out of the bridge’s remains. Bilbo was just pulling out Dori’s ruffled Zangoose, which looked even angrier than usual, when he heard Kíli calling out for Gandalf. Both he and Zangoose looked first at Kíli and then behind them, where a veritable army of goblins was coming for them.

“There’s too many! We can’t fight them!” And Bilbo knew that if Dwalin was saying that, it was bad.

Gandalf turned away from the army, heading to a passage Bilbo hadn’t noticed before. “Only one thing will save us now – sunlight! Come on!”

Stubbornly, he dug along with Ori, though the latter’s brothers were both calling for him to come along. Corsola was still buried underneath, having been the one Bilbo had seen using Protect in order to make sure some of the others would not get hurt too badly by the goblin’s landing. When they finally uncovered Corsola, Ori sighed in relief and gave her a quick hug before recalling her. Then, Bilbo and the young dwarf turned to catch up to the others.

Even adrenalin wasn’t enough to keep up Bilbo’s energy, and he just about shut down as he ran after the others. He tried his best not to pay attention to the pain in his muscles, most of which he was fairly certain he had never known he had before. He tried not to think about the goblins trying to kill them or the lives he had taken to make sure they would all live.

What stopped him was bumping into Nori’s back as they all stopped running. He hadn’t even noticed they had reached the exit and were outside now. Unable to keep standing any longer, Bilbo allowed himself to fall back to the ground, where he lay panting and staring up at the sky.

“Do we have everyone?” he heard Gandalf ask, followed by a headcount. Apparently, he was lying behind one of the dwarrows still, since he soon heard “Bilbo? Where’s Bilbo?” If he hadn’t sounded so worried, Bilbo wouldn’t have bothered trying to respond.

He barely managed a groan, but it was clearly enough. Soon, the wizard appeared above him, a relieved smile on his face.

“There you are. I’m glad to see you’re alright.”

“I’m a hobbit, Gandalf,” he sighed. “I’m not made for running, not at all.” The wizard laughed. “You laugh it up,” Bilbo grumbled. “I’m not feeling alright in the slightest. A meal, some sleep, and _no more heights_ , and I would be alright again.”

“You seem to have done just fine keeping up with these dwarves so far,” Gandalf remarked, still sounding far happier than he should.

That reminded Bilbo. “We need to talk.”

Grey eyebrows rose as if in surprise, but he wasn’t entirely sure he trusted that innocent look. Gandalf may be a lot of things, but Bilbo estimated that innocent wasn’t one of them. Nor was completely oblivious to good manners, though the wizard did love to steer clear of them. Bilbo pulled himself up with a sigh, preferring to get some distance between them and the goblins. Besides, if he were to stay laying down, he wouldn’t be getting up until he’d had at least two days of sleep. Everyone else got moving as well, though Bilbo stuck close to the wizard.

They weren’t really far enough for the dwarrows not to overhear. And while they might have been able to ignore the conversation if they had wished to, Bilbo had lived in Hobbiton for long enough to notice the curious looks. He didn’t doubt they would be listening in on what he and Gandalf were saying to one another.

“So what was it you wanted to discuss?” Gandalf asked him kindly. It almost made Bilbo want to give up the conversation.

“It’s about how I came to be part of this company,” he instead told the wizard. A look of exasperation appeared on his face, which made Bilbo frown. “From what I hear, you pretty much coerced them into bringing me along. Now why, in the name of Yavanna, would you do something like that?”

“I explained in Rivendell,” Gandalf told him, and he sounded honestly perplexed. “You are needed on this quest.”

Bilbo looked quizzically at the wizard, trying to figure him out. “Yes, you explained that to me. And while I am still not sure whether I agree, I did admit I trusted you enough to go along anyhow, just in case you are right. But did you explain it to them as well?”

“They would not have listened.” Gandalf sounded so sure of that. “I did what I had to in order to make them bring you along.”

Now, Bilbo sighed. Partially, he wanted to roll his eyes and scold the wizard. A greater part of him, however, realized that was exactly where things went wrong. “Look, Gandalf. I get that you are a wizard, and that you know things the rest of us don’t. And I will confess I don’t know which came first in this entire situation, and what played a part in the reaction of the dwarrows. I would implore you, however, to take into account that if you treat people like recalcitrant children, they will behave like it. Now I will confess I haven’t known them for a long time yet, but I cannot believe they would absolutely refuse to listen if you talked to them reasonably.”

“Except it probably would have taken at least twice as long, if not longer, for them to even consider it an option.” The exasperated look made a bit more sense now.

He did not want to sound like a fauntling complaining the others had been mean to him. It was entirely likely Gandalf would get angry at them, instead of listening to what Bilbo was trying to tell him. “And yet pressing decisions onto people, even if you’re a wizard and they have to listen, will hardly leave them happy about it.”

“I don’t need them to be happy. What is important is that the right decision is made, and preferably as quickly as possible.” Gandalf looked older now. “Too many things can go wrong, and people make the wrong decisions all the time. What I need to do is to save as many people as possible, and if that means pushing people into those decisions or risking countless lives… It’s the only way people listen, sometimes.”

Altaria curled around him gently, cooing softly. It saddened Bilbo. “I understand, Gandalf. Really, I do. But is it possible that, over the years, you have gotten so used to it that you don’t even try to convince people in a reasonable way anymore? That to you, it has stopped being ‘sometimes’ and started being ‘always’? Because if you go to everyone like that, expecting a fight and treating them like children that don’t know better, that’s the exact result you will get.” And people would actually be happy with the idea, and support it themselves, and fight for it if need be. He wanted to add it, except in this case, it wasn’t necessarily about the result – it was about how the wizard went about obtaining it.

Gandalf was silent as he walked besides Bilbo, stroking Altaria and appearing deep in thought.

Just as it seemed like he was about to answer, a howl cut through the air. “What…?”

“That was a Mightyena,” Thorin was saying, looking back at the mountains where the sound had come from. “Which means orcs aren’t far behind.”

“Run!” Gandalf was calling, but everyone already was. Bilbo wanted to cry, but there was no time for it now. Instead, he fell into step behind Ori, who was being dragged along by his oldest brother. He wondered if there was any way to escape.

Of course, that was the exact moment they encountered a cliff. “Up into the trees, everyone!” Gandalf was already in there, moving quickly to the top of the tree. Bilbo looked gratefully at Nori as the dwarf helped him up into one of the trees just before the Mightyena rushed across the ground beneath him. He squeaked at the viciously snapping jaws, one only barely missing his leg, and scrambled up further.

“We don’t have enough Pokémon that can Fly,” Balin established. It would not be enough to get all of them away, and no one would leave the others here to die.

Bilbo noticed Altaria flying off, and wondered where he was going. He hoped it would be for some help in getting away from this place, because he was seriously starting to hate heights. It got even worse as the Mightyena that had caught up to them started howling, and he had the terrible suspicion they were calling for reinforcements.

That guess was confirmed when more of the Pokémon filled the area underneath the trees, jumping up and actually getting close to some of the company sitting on the lower branches.

There were few Pokémon light enough for the company to be able to call for them now, considering the branches were already creaking underneath them. The Mightyena forced all of them into the last tree on the cliff, and Bilbo clung on for dear life, trying his best not to look down. If he’d had a Pokémon with the ability to Fly, he would’ve called for them now.

A burning pinecone came down, and he looked up to see Gandalf lighting some of them. Kíli had good aim with them, as did Ori and Balin. Bilbo delighted in getting a few of the Mightyena right between the eyes. Fighting with a sword he may be awful at, but conkers he could play.

Just as he was starting to hope they might be able to hold off for long enough for Gandalf’s reinforcements to arrive, their tree pulled partially loose, leaving them all hanging on the edge of the cliff. At the same time, multiple orcs on Mightyena started appearing. The most terrifying was Azog.

Bilbo remembered him from his fight in Moria, and he had been very relieved when he had been able to leave. There was something so undeniably dark about the orc that Bilbo shivered just to look at him. Now, riding a shiny Mightyena that was significantly larger than the others, he clung tightly to his branch just to try and pretend his hands weren’t shaking. He had so wished he would never have to see the orc again.

Quite honestly, Bilbo had thought they had hit rock-bottom earlier in the goblin caves. He’d thought things couldn’t get worse. Now, barely hanging onto a tree that was barely hanging onto the edge of the cliff, the same thought crossed his mind.

He noted to himself not to tempt fate again as Thorin got up and charged Azog, only to be knocked aside like no more than a bothersome fly. The hobbit felt frozen, hanging onto the tree, as he watched Thorin get thrown around, unable to properly lift his weapons or to call for his Pokémon. A desperate look around revealed that none of the dwarrows appeared even close to being able to climbing up and helping their king. Gandalf, his only other hope, was the only reason Dori and Ori hadn’t fallen to their deaths yet.

It wasn’t even a conscious decision. Not really. Consciously, Bilbo was very well-aware that he wasn’t much good with a sword, and that facing orcs was a terrible idea. Consciously, Bilbo was terrified and just wanted something to save all of them and get them out of this terrible situation.

Unconsciously, there appeared to be some bravery in him after all as he jumped for the orc about to cut off Thorin’s head.


End file.
